Birthday Boy
by rainbowrobot28
Summary: It's Jim's birthday, and he's lonely. Luckily, Spock is there to keep him company. Slash.


The intercom whirred at Spock as he was sitting at his desk, looking over papers. It startled him slightly; it was later at night, and he couldn't imagine who would be contacting him, unless there was some kind of emergency on the ship.

"Spock here," he replied, a feeling of uneasiness beginning to form in his stomach. His nerves calmed instantly when he heard the captains voice, seemingly relaxed, through the speaker.

"Spock, if you're not busy, would you mind joining me in my quarters?" Jim said, sounding almost excited. Spock welcomed the distraction from the mind-numbing work.

"Certainly, Captain. I will be there momentarily," he said, flipping the switch of the intercom. He arrived outside Jim's door within five minutes. Opening the door, he found Jim sitting on his couch, a bottle of expensive Merlot and two glasses on the table in front of him.

"Ah, Spock! Have a seat," Jim said, motioning to the chair across from him. Spock nodded and sat down, but was still slightly confused.

"Captain, may I inquire as to the occasion?" he asked as Jim was pouring wine into the glasses. Jim laughed slightly and shook his head.

"For the last time, Spock, call me Jim," he said, handing Spock the glass. Spock nodded again, taking the glass and inspecting the intricate design on it's base. Jim sighed. "And I wasn't going to tell anyone, but…" he paused to take a drink of the wine, "it was my birthday today." Spock raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Sir-" he stopped when he saw the look the captain was giving him. "Jim, why didn't you inform me? I could have arranged something…" Jim saw that he was noticeably flustered at this point, worried that he had done something wrong.

"No, no, that would've been unnecessary. I got so used to spending my birthday alone, I completely forgot to mention it to anyone," he said, taking another sip of wine. Spock still had the look of confusion. "Normally, I don't have a problem with spending it alone; I just get drunk and sleep it off. But when I got back to my room tonight, I just felt…lonely," Spock noticed that Jim was now staring intently into his drink. However, he still wasn't sure of his purpose in this situation.

"I'm sorry, Jim, but I still do not understand why you called me here," he found that he was almost reluctant to ask for an explanation. Jim sighed and looked up at him.

"Spock…you're the best friend I have here. You might be the best friend I've ever had. And right now, I wouldn't want to spend my time with anyone else but you," Spock was somewhat taken aback by the captain's unusually serious demeanor. For the first time in years, as far as Spock could remember, he had a rush of many different emotions. He attempted to conceal this by taking a long drink from his glass. "Of course, you don't need to stay if you have other business to attend to…and I know it's late…" Jim said after a long pause. Spock was so caught up in his own thoughts, he'd forgotten that he hadn't acknowledged Jim's statement.

"Of course not, Jim. I'm honoured to be spending your birthday with you. I would stay all night if you wanted me to," Spock said without thinking. He immediately felt his ears flushing green; luckily, he knew the dim light in Jim's room would hide it. He shifted his eyes around the room for several seconds before focusing back on Jim, who was now looking directly at him and smiling. Spock stared into his deep blue eyes, which were now sparkling in the glow of the table lamp. Part of him was thinking how beautiful Jim was sitting there in front of him, his messy blonde hair falling around his rugged yet soft facial features; the other part was wondering where these ridiculous feelings were coming from. He could feel the nervous feeling in his stomach returning, only for a different reason this time. He quickly downed the rest of his wine and stood up. "Would you like me to get you anything from the kitchen, Jim?"

"No thanks, I'm okay for now…" Jim said, not wanting to break the intense eye contact between he and the Vulcan. After a short pause, Spock retreated to the back room. Jim turned to admire the First Officer's lean body as he walked away, watching him seemingly glide across the room with grace. He'd been having many strange feelings lately that he couldn't quite explain. He didn't exactly know what was causing them, and the truth was, he didn't care. But he knew he had to do something about it.

Spock stood in Jim's bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror and thinking for at least seven minutes before moving. He sighed deeply as the conflicting thoughts kept running through his mind. He knew what he _should_ do, and he knew what he _wanted _to do, but there was a distinct difference between the two. He studied himself in the mirror, scrunching his eyebrows together. Jim was an attractive man; this was a fact, and it had entered his mind more than a few times. He assumed he would never have a chance to act on any of the scenarios he may or may not have imagined at one time or another, but now he wasn't so sure. It was times like this when he cursed his natural observation skills and his logical brain. He saw the way Jim was staring at him earlier, and he could easily sense the tension in the room. Unfortunately, his lack of experience in this field left him at a loss for a solution, which tended to frustrate him more than anything. He sighed again, and decided he should return before Jim assumed that something horrible and unlikely had happened. He walked out of the bathroom and turned the corner to find Jim leaning on wall across from him, apparently waiting. Spock's heart immediately leapt into his throat. He stopped several feet in front of the smiling captain, unsure about what to do. They stood for several seconds in silence, admiring one another, each not knowing what to do. Spock could feel himself blushing once again, and couldn't take the silence any longer.

"Jim, I…" he started, realizing that in everything he wanted to say, he suddenly couldn't find the words. He clenched his fists at his sides out of nervousness and frustration and took a step towards Jim. He was close enough now that he could faintly feel Jim's slightly fast-paced breathing on his cheek. Jim raised his hand slowly to the Vulcan's smooth, pale cheek, but Spock took hold of the captain's wrist just as his finger brushed his face. Spock felt his own heart rate increasing as he took another step towards Jim, tightening his grip on his arm. Their faces were now inches apart, and their ability to restrain themselves was quickly fading.

"Jim…" Spock said again, only this time, there was more than a hint of longing in his voice. He moved closer, pressing his body into Jim's. The energy between them was too much for the captain; he grabbed Spock's free arm and spun him around so that his back was now against the wall and his arm was pinned behind him. He knew the Vulcan could easily overpower him if he chose to, but surprisingly, he didn't. Instead, he released Jim's wrist and used his free hand to grab the back of Jim's head and pull him closer. They hovered there for a moment, lips barely touching, the intensity growing rapidly with every second. Finally, they each gave in simultaneously, coming together with almost painful force. Spock pulled at Jim's hair and bit at his bottom lip, causing him to omit the occasional growl and press their bodies tighter together. Jim wrapped his free arm around the Vulcan's slim waist, pulling his hips closer to him, making Spock arch his back and moan into the kiss. Jim continued to claw at Spock's waistline as he slowly pulled away from the kiss to rest his forehead on Spock's. They remained there, speechless, for what seemed like forever before Jim spoke.

"Spock…what are we doing?" Jim whispered as Spock ran his hand down his face. Spock closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I do know it's completely illogical," he replied, breathless. Jim laughed and shook his head, running his hand through Spock's hair.


End file.
